


Gone to the Dogs

by lvndrhoney



Series: Just Kitten Around [2]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Being Walked In On, Light Dom/sub, Like super light, M/M, Pet Play, like d/s thats been soaked in bleach for 24 hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 00:43:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18906019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvndrhoney/pseuds/lvndrhoney
Summary: Jinyoung thinks the whole cat thing...is not actually as bad as he initially thought.Too bad the rest of the group doesn't agree.





	Gone to the Dogs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hyuukiyo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyuukiyo/gifts).



> Ummmmmmmmmmmmm, hello it’s me again, here to deliver what one (1) person asked for. Its not necessary to read the first one! But there are some references to it and uhhhhhhhh. I’m sorry! Just gonna say that now. Also gonna say this may have gotten away from me a bit and i am so, so sorry.
> 
> suggested listening: kitty kat by beyonce

This is why Jinyoung doesn’t do nice things.

He’s been waiting on Jaebeom to come home for hours and _this_ is what he gets. Not even a goddamn text? A quick ‘Hey I’m going to be in the studio late tonight’ at the minimum?

Now, had Jinyoung let Jaebeom know he was planning on waiting up for him when Jinyoung usually had the sleeping schedule of a 90 year old? Of course he didn’t—that’s the point of a _god damn surprise_ —but still, screw Jaebeom for not letting him know when the hell he was going to get back. Not to mention that his cats were in Jinyoung’s room (the horror of that statement nearly makes him shiver) doing god knows what the entire time he’s been waiting.

Admittedly, though, a tiny sliver of his heart empathizes with them, and he guiltily vows to play with them more during those periods when Jaebeom wasn’t home. Every day they had to suffer the pain of having an absentee father, alone with each other, wallowing in the height of cat luxury in the 1,300,000 won cat tower Jaebeom bought for them—

…Actually, scratch that Jinyoung didn’t feel bad for them _at all_ (except Nora, his sweet precious daughter. She deserved the world.). He’s tired, lonely, and the ensemble he’s wearing is uncomfortable to boot. Sighing, he reaches up to rub behind his ear where the headband dug into his skin. All dressed up with no cat loving loser to fuck. What has his life become.

With Jaebeom’s anime figurines and Simpsons bobble heads (that Jinyoung already turned around to face the shelf so he doesn’t have to stare in Bart’s beady, dead, Funko eyes while he engages in Borderline Furry Activity) as his witness, he was absolutely _never_ doing _anything_ nice for Jaebeom again. _Ever._

Before he can sink even further into his noxious rage, the sound of the front door opening jostles him from his brooding. Speak of demons and they’ll come sauntering in at—Jinyoung glances at the clock on Jaebeom’s nightstand—02:37 in a raggedy beanie and baggy sweatpants.

When Jaebeom finally opens the door to his room, he’s greeted by an all-black clad Jinyoung, arms crossed and scowling as he demands, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

A maelstrom of thoughts knock around in Jaebeom’s skull: Why’s Jinyoung here—oh god he’s wearing the ears—and _tail_ —wow he wants to kiss him—wait where are the cats? Settling on the last thought he blurts, “Where are my babies?”

Jinyoung’s eyes widen and his scowl deepens. “ _That’s_ all you have to say?” Jinyoung says incredulously before his face falls and he mumbles miserably, “Just go back to your studio.” He flops over onto his stomach, face buried in Jaebeom’s comforter.

Mouth hanging open, Jaebeom takes another half a step into his room stuttering, “What did I do?”

“I’ve been waiting for _hours_.” Jinyoung’s voice may be muffled by Jaebeom’s bedspread, but Jinyoung has the incredible ability of projecting his whining with an effectiveness great enough that nothing could impede it from being heard.

Jaebeom gingerly sits on the bed next to him, crossing his legs underneath himself as he settles in next to Jinyoung’s stretched out body. He starts rubbing Jinyoung’s back in an effort to placate him, all the while trying not to stare at his ass since he seems upset. That’d probably be…insensitive—and Jaebeom’s working on being _more_ sensitive or whatever—but it’s kind of hard not to since the only bottoms Jinyoung’s wearing are a pair of tight, black spandex and _the tail_ but he tries his best. He really does. “I’m sorry but, Jinyoung, where are my cats?”

Unmoving and still face planted into Jaebeom’s bed, Jinyoung grumbles, “I put them in my room.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Jaebeom says as he continues to rub his back.

Abruptly, Jinyoung lifts up head and twists his neck to look at him. “I’m not going to fuck in front of your cats,” Jinyoung says bluntly and well. So much for the sexy game of cat and mouse—or cat and owner, actually—Jinyoung had planned.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom starts patiently, “it’d be _much_ easier for us to relocate instead of them.”

“We can’t do this in my room!” Jinyoung exclaims, pushing himself to his elbows and gesticulating wildly enough Jaebeom leans away from him. “That’s my space! That’s my area! You can’t do that to me!”

Jaebeom throws his hands up, patience evaporating like alcohol wiped across glass. “What does that even mean?” He yells back.

“The energies of you yanking me around on a leash are going to seep into my living space and effect my sleeping pattern. You know how important my sleep is to me, Jaebeom.”

…He really did spend too much damn time with Jackson.

“Why are you so obsessed with a leash that doesn’t exist, Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung pushes himself up onto his knees and faces Jaebeom directly. “ _Because I’m terrified of the possibility!_ ”

There’s a beat where Jaebeom tilts his head and purses lips, suddenly looking calm and contemplative as he muses the thought over in his head. “…You would look cute—”

Jinyoung’s expression ices out and his voice goes unnaturally level as he says, “I hope putting a collar on your wrist will be enough for you to get your jollies. Goodnight.” He swiftly clambers of the bed and begins making his exit.

“Jinyoung!” Jaebeom calls out as he grabs for him, fingers catching on his long, black sleeve for a split second before Jinyoung wrenches out of his grasp. “Jinyoungie, baby, I was joking!”

Jinyoung doesn’t slow down or give any indication that he’s heard Jaebeom’s plea, and in a moment of desperation, Jaebeom takes a clumsy half-lunge in Jinyoung’s direction trying to reach for anything on him. Unfortunately, he only gets a handful of the tail. It’s not purposeful, but with Jinyoung quickly moving away while Jaebeom tries to keep from tumbling on to the floor, his grip tightens around the soft material and he yanks downward in one short pull. He doesn’t pull very hard, but it’s enough to have Jinyoung freezing in place as he yelps and Jaebeom drops it immediately. He whirls around, eyes wide and furious, and Jaebeom guiltily throws his hands up by his head.

“ _Jaebeom!_ ”

“THAT WAS ON ACCIDENT I SWEAR!” Jaebeom yells defensively. Jinyoung covers up his face with his hands and takes a deep breath. There’s a long moment where he just stands silently, breathing rhythmically like he’s mediating. Or praying to the cosmos itself to give him the strength to not remove every drawer in Jaebeom’s room and upend it on the floor.

While he’s definitely not happy, he’s not leaving anymore at least, so that’s a win? Maybe? At the very least, Jaebeom thinks that means he has some sort of chance at mending the mood.

“Please don’t leave, Jinyoung? I appreciate that you stayed up for me,” Jaebeom says in the 2nd cutest tone he can manage. Jinyoung doesn’t cave, but he pauses, hands sliding down his face until his fingers are resting over his mouth.

Jinyoung’s quiet voice is ridden with petulance when he replies, “You know I go to bed by 10.”

“I know, 9:30 if you can.” Jaebeom pats his lap. “C’mon sit down.” It’s a long shot, but Jaebeom still gets his hopes up when Jinyoung looks at him for an apprehensive moment that seems to draw out like taffy…before pointedly stepping around the bed to sit (more like kneel) in the desk chair instead, turning it around so he’s glaring over the back of the chair, hands gripping into the plush material.

“I can’t exactly _sit_ anywhere, with this _tail_ in the way.” Jinyoung slumps forward, pressing chin in to space between where his hands are kneading into the chair.

Jaebeom winces, guilt trickling into him for tugging on it like he did. “Sorry.” He doesn’t specify if the apology is for pulling on the tail or giving it to Jinyoung to wear in the first place. Right now it’s definitely a 50:50 mixture of both. Jinyoung only provides him with a blank stare he’s painfully familiar with in return, and Jaebeom has to redirect his attention to his hands under the scolding weight of it. But speaking of the tail, there was something Jaebeom was a bit curious about since he walked in. “Hey,” Jaebeom starts carefully, still picking at his nailbeds. “Can I ask you something?”

Jinyoung emits a long suffering sigh. “What is it.”

A mite of hesitation grips him. Is his curiosity worth possibly battering the tender truce they just tip-toed into? Yeah, probably not, but this was information Jaebeom desperately needed to have. “Where uh…where did you find the shorts? With the hole?”

“I didn’t.” Jinyoung answers immediately, voice so dry it’s almost robotic. “I did it myself. There was a lot of me looking in the mirror, a little bit of guestimating; sometimes I made them too big and had to throw them out.”

“...I see.”

“Oh, that reminds me: you owe me three pairs of spandex,” Jinyoung continues casually, still staring Jaebeom down from the chair.

This finally has Jaebeom looking back him, his sheepishness gone and replaced with incredulousness. “Why?”

“I bought and ruined them for YOUR fetish!” Jinyoung grinds out, eyes narrowed. Jaebeom’s not going to argue with that. Not because he can’t—because he _can_ because he _didn’t ask_ —but he’s not going to dissuade Jinyoung from his escapades into arts and crafts for the kinkster.

Jaebeom sighs resigned. He rubs a hand over his face as his shoulders slump in defeat. “Okay, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung’s getting steadily less sulky the more he gets his way, but he’s still pouting over the back of Jaebeom’s desk chair. “…Still can’t believe you just had this thing lying around,” he says after a moment of realizing Jaebeom’s not going to argue.

“I already _told_ you I bought it on a _WHIM_!” Jaebeom yells.

“And where the hell were you to be making this kind of purchase ‘on a whim’?”

The bravado he had managed to muster up whooshes out of Jaebeom as quickly as it wafted in. He suspiciously avoids eye contact by finding interest in the wood grains of his furniture as he mumbles, “…places.”

“Let’s agree right now we’re not allowed to buy sex toys unless we’re both there.” Jaebeom opens his mouth all ready to debate but Jinyoung cuts him off dead-eyed and deadpan. “If you want to buy a cat tail with a studded silicone end to shove up your own ass, be my guest, but if it’s something you want to put up mine I’d like to be present to contribute some sort of input on the purchase, next time.”

Well. Now that’s something he actually can’t argue with…though if he were to be _technical_ it was _Jinyoung_ who introduced that sort of thing into their relationship in the first place—with Jaebeom as the test subject—but it doesn’t take a lot of deliberation for Jaebeom to determine this is not the hill he wants to die on.

“Okay. I agree. Now will you come over here? I’ve had a long day and I’d really like to kiss you now.” Jaebeom likes to think he sounds suave with just the right amount of sweetness that Jinyoung usually caves for. He’s met with a blank, unimpressed stare, Jinyoung refusing to budge from his spot. Jaebeom drops the façade and sighs irritably, “Are you going to stay there all night, then?”

“What are you gonna do? Kick me out?”

They both know he won’t. The spiteful, petty side of him wants to prove a point and do it, but Jaebeom grits his teeth instead of responding. Being in a relationship with Jinyoung for as long as he has, Jaebeom’s long since learned trying to see who could out petty _Jinyoung_ of all people would always result in a loss for him one way or another.

Not to mention he has other tactics.

“Jinyoungie,” Jaebeom starts sweetly, and Jinyoung can’t keep himself from tensing up, feeling the burn of a blush spread along his neck and face all the way to the tips of his ears. It’s a voice he’s been familiar with for years, a voice he’s never thought too much about until _now_ ; the same voice he always uses when he’s calling to one of his cats. And Jinyoung _still_ hasn’t gotten used to it being directed towards himself yet, and he’s almost positive Jaebeom knows it, too. “I barely got to see you today, could you please come here, Jinyoungie?” Jaebeom scoots up until his back is pressed against the headboard and continues to pat his thigh invitingly.

“Whose fault is that?” Jinyoung says under his breath in response but climbs out of the chair anyway.

There’s a moment where Jinyoung considers sprawling at the bottom of the bed out of Jaebeom’s reach and ignoring him while Jaebeom not-whines about it but. They’re both tired, and even if Jaebeom _abandoned_ him for most of the day, he did miss him.

And he has other ways to get to him.

He throws his arms around Jaebeom’s shoulders and his legs on either side of him, perching lightly in his lap. Jaebeom cranes up to peck at Jinyoung’s lips but lands on his chin when Jinyoung tilts his head up.

“Jinyoung.”

“What?” He sounds bored, but when Jaebeom looks at him he can tell from the press of his lips that he’s trying not to laugh. Jaebeom tries again and his lips land on Jinyoung’s jaw, this time.

“ _Jinyoung_.”

“ _What?_ ” Jinyoung replies, mimicking Jaebeom’s tone.

“Let me kiss you.” His voice pitches up and he’s not whining he’s NOT he’s just. Trying to be convincing. That’s all.

“Oh, is that what you wanted?” Jinyoung finally tilts his head down but only so he’s sure Jaebeom can see and know exactly how smug he’s feeling. It’s a solid 8 out of 10 on the Smug Scale…though that’s not saying much considering Jinyoung usually rests on a 6 on any given day when he gets to annoy Jaebeom.

Jinyoung had to wait for _hours_ ; Jaebeom could wait for a few minutes. Jaebeom leans in to try and kiss him again, but is halted when Jinyoung presses the pads of his fingers to Jaebeom’s lips to stop him, a quiet, disappointed sigh ghosting past his parted lips as he does so.

“The thing is, I don’t recall giving you permission for that, Jaebeom.” The sudden icy command of his voice draws Jaebeom’s body rigid. Air around him seeming thinner, Jaebeom’s struck by how quickly Jinyoung can switch moods like this. It leaves him teetering. “You made me wait and now you think you deserve a reward?” He doesn’t respond, not with Jinyoung’s fingers still pressed to his mouth, but shakes his head quickly. When Jinyoung’s hand slips down to his neck, Jaebeom’s lips part to suck in an uneven breath. Jinyoung leans in to say low into his ear, “Don’t forget I don’t need you for much; I only let you take care of me because I’m bored. Because it’s convenient. Maybe I should just take care of myself, hm? Make you watch. You wouldn’t like that would you?”

Jinyoung’s hand isn’t even squeezing against his throat, fingers gently resting on the back of his neck, thumb only stroking against his Adam’s apple instead, but Jaebeom feels a similar lightheadedness. “No. I wouldn’t.” He feels the words scratching out of his throat, like the gentle brush of Jinyoung’s thumb is rubbing him raw.

Jinyoung leans back and slowly runs his hand from his neck and over his shoulder, gliding down to his arm until he suddenly digs his nails into his bicep. “So I guess that’s what I should do, then.” Jaebeom starts to protest—it’d be the best kind of torture but so unfair with Jinyoung this close but not being able to touch—but stops when he feels Jinyoung start lightly scratching the skin on his arm up and down in a way that was almost hypnotic. “I thought about it, you know, about touching myself in your bed while you made me wait, leaving a mess for you to clean up when you got back.” The corner of mouth quirks up and he digs his nails in painfully, the sting making Jaebeom jolt. “But I think you like cleaning up after me too much for that to be a punishment.”

He can’t even respond, Jinyoung having just stolen every particle of air from his lung with his teasing statement. Jaebeom feels the burn of embarrassment of being caught out, that Jinyoung noticed something he never brought up.

Though he’s asked for _this_ before, for Jinyoung to be difficult, to be a bit…unkind, it’s still too new in this context, a touch too much to handle with everything else all at once. “I was _so_ patient, just for you, and now you can’t be patient for me?” Jinyoung says, rubbing at the fading crescent marks he pressed into his skin, tone changing into something softer than the harsh bite he had to his previous words, more wounded than angry.

“I can be patient.” Jaebeom manages to stammer out, finally feeling like he’s learning how to breathe again, and he all he wants to do with his regained breath is please Jinyoung. Wants to comfort and console him, to make him happy.

“Can you?” And Jinyoung’s pushing his hips down in a way that’s as sudden as it is rough, rocking into him and forcing a strangled whine out of Jaebeom. “You don’t feel very patient to me.”

“I can—I’ll wait, for however long you want, I’ll do whatever you want. Anything for you.” Maybe he’d feel more shame for begging already if he wasn’t so dizzy, didn’t feel like flames building in his abdomen weren’t going to char him from the inside out, burning brighter with every rough push of Jinyoung’s hips.

“Anything for me?” Jinyoung repeats airily, sounding softly awed like he couldn’t fathom that idea before this moment, like he doesn’t already know how gone Jaebeom is for him. “But I’m doing all of this just for you. Anything for _you…_ only for _you._ ” And it’s this switch from cold to warm that always gets him, throws him completely off balance stumbling and confused right as he’s starting to find his bearings, Jinyoung always knowing the perfect ways to keep him floundering, and he grips tight at Jinyoung’s waist like it’s the only way to ground himself.

And _finally_ Jinyoung gives Jaebeom what he had asked for and barely brushes their lips together, but at this point Jaebeom can’t even properly reciprocate because he’s breathing too heavily, trying to regulate his breath even but Jinyoung is driving the air out of him with every wave of his hips canting down and against him.

“I’m all yours, Jaebeom.” Jinyoung presses his lips firmer against Jaebeom’s, but still nothing more than a light peck, before he whispers, “I’m your pretty kitty,” against Jaebeom’s mouth.

And that’s— _that’s_ —Jaebeom inhales sharply. The sudden jerk of Jaebeom’s hips throw Jinyoung off the rhythm he had set, startled grunt leaving him as he’s jostled and Jaebeom’s fingers dig uncomfortably hard into his sides. They mostly still except for the way Jaebeom’s chest heaves, realization slowly seeping into Jinyoung’s mind as they both take a moment to catch their breath.

“Did you—?” Jinyoung starts incredulously and Jaebeom blanches and darts a looks up at him eyes wide and guilty before settling at staring at the pendant dangling along his throat.

“No?”

“Oh my god,” and Jaebeom can hear the amusement permeating every syllable, can hear the sharp inhale of breath Jinyoung takes when he’s trying not to laugh.

“Don’t laugh at me,” Jaebeom says burying his face in his hands. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. How old is he to be losing it over a little grinding so quickly like that?

“I’m not,” Jinyoung says, voice wavering. “I’m not.” He says again, voice steadier.

“I was surprised,” Jaebeom for real-whines into his hands.

“Mmhm.” Jaebeom looks up past his fingers and sees Jinyoung’s lips rolled between his teeth and pushes at his shoulders.

“I said don’t laugh!”

“I’m _not_. Not—not at you but—” Jinyoung tries to collect himself. “You’re just too cute.”

Jaebeom pushes his face into Jinyoung’s shoulder and Jinyoung finally lets out a breathy laugh as he runs his hand through the hair along his nape. “That was—more than usual,” Jaebeom mumbles, face burning.

“Too much?” Jinyoung asks gently, still carding through his hair, and Jaebeom melts just a bit more with every glide of his fingers against his skin.

“No,” Jaebeom admits hesitantly. It was good. Maybe…a bit…too good if anything.

“Are you sure? If it was I can pull it back, ok?” Jinyoung pauses but his fingers continue running soothingly over his skin and hair. “We didn’t discuss doing that while I’m dressed like this. I thought it fit but if it was too much for you I understand. I should have asked first.”

“It wasn’t, it was—you’ve—I didn’t know if it was okay. For me to say—to call you—” and he can’t even say it now, overwhelmed again just thinking about it. Jaebeom knew he had already asked for a lot, he wasn’t going to keep pushing for too much but…Jinyoung had just given it to him so easily.

  
“Kitty?” Jinyoung tries and Jaebeom reels at hearing him say it again, thinks of the way he had only just said it, calling himself _his_ kitty. His kitten. He manages a nod before slowly blowing the air out his lungs. Jinyoung’s told him before if he wants something he has to ask. That it’s always okay to ask.

“Can I?” Jaebeom manages to gather enough courage to look at Jinyoung’s face. He’s slightly flushed and looking so, so blatantly fond Jaebeom can feel it radiating into his skin, a different kind of bubbling warmth that settles over him instead of exploding him from the inside out. It gives him enough confidence to push forward and be specific. “Can I call you—kitten?”

“Maybe,” Jinyoung hums tilting his head to the side. “I don’t know how fun that is for me if you’re going to act like this every time…”

“That’s not fair! _I was surprised!_ ”

He breaks into a wide grin at Jaebeom’s protest. “Though it’s always so cute to see you this flustered.” Jaebeom’s too weak to be teased right now. No fair. He pushes at Jinyoung’s shoulder again and he chuckles. “Yes, you can call me that, Jaebeom.”

“Thank you.” Jaebeom leans up to kiss him properly, like how he wanted to since he walked into his room and saw Jinyoung waiting for him. They settle comfortably for a moment, Jaebeom tightening his arms around Jinyoung and Jinyoung basking in the warmth radiating between their bodies as they exchange soft kisses until Jaebeom pulls away suddenly, a frown etched between his brows. “Don’t tell Jackson about this.”

“That you busted in your pants with like 5 minutes of light grinding because I called myself ‘kitty’?”

“ _Jinyoung._ ”

“Don’t worry, baby,” Jinyoung coos into his hair and Jaebeom flicks at the shell of his ear and gets a giggle back. “I’m not going to say anything.”

“I mean it.” Jaebeom grouses. He’s not ~~that~~ dumb. They’re all friends, they all talk and share things sometimes, and it’s fine within reason, but he really doesn’t need Jackson holding something like this over his head and sneakily trying to reference it in interviews or other venues where Jaebeom can’t actually do or say anything to defend himself.

“So do I.” Gone is the playful timbre he was teasing Jaebeom with before, Jinyoung’s voice now darkly serious. “I don’t plan on talking about any of this with any of them. Ever. Or anything to do with our sex life at all if I can help it. _Especially_ to Jackson.”

That is a lie.

If there was a quiz on Jaebeom’s dick, the top 3 scorers would be Jinyoung, Jackson, and Jaebeom’s primary physician in charge of his physicals. In that order.

In Jinyoung’s defense, that wasn’t by his explicit design (Jackson was _Jackson,_ after all), but this time, he was going to do everything in his power to keep the details of _this_ away from the rest of them. He’d already suffered enough from them knowing the bare minimum.

“But enough about that,” Jinyoung says as he grabs Jaebeom’s hands settled on his waist and drags them lower. “You have 3 hours and 49 minutes to make up to me in maybe 30 minutes before I pass out from exhaustion.”

Jaebeom laughs while he leans up to kiss him again, slightly shaking his head because knowing Jinyoung, he probably did actually keep track of the time. “Anything you want, kitten.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately for Jinyoung: Jackson is still Jackson.

It’s a Rainbow Road Relay Night which means doing endless tournaments of nothing but Rainbow Road courses in Mario Kart until someone passes out.

(Normally Mark would join them but he ditched them for PUBG. They heard him scream “winner, winner, chicken dinner”, “I’m a god”, and “get cucked, bitch” so they assume it’s going well.)

It’s like a traditional relay except instead of passing batons you passed shots of soju and instead of passing them to another person you passed them to yourself every time you fell off the course.

…In all honesty it’s not much of a “relay” but Jackson liked the alliteration so the name stayed.

“So…how’s it going with you and Jaebeom?” Jackson ask suspiciously in the middle of another race. They’ve lost track of what number race they’re on by this point, though whether that’s because of the sheer amount of races they’ve finished or shots they’ve taken is up in the air.

“How’s what going?” Jinyoung returns dryly, not taking his eyes away from the screen.

“You know? Like your relationship…and stuff.”

“And stuff.” Jinyoung repeats, unimpressed at Jackson’s attempts at subtlety. He may be tipsy at this point, but he’s not drunk, at least not drunk enough that he doesn’t see what Jackson is trying to do. In all fairness, he knew this was going to happen one day, and he’d rather Jackson wheedle it out of him than out of Jaebeom; at least this way he could control the flow of information.

“What? I can’t ask about how two of my dearest and closest friends are d—”

“—You want to know about the cat thin—”

“—I’m dying to know about the cat thing, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung falls off trying to dodge a banana he just threw in front of himself and uses the opportunity to take two more shots before tiredly asking, “So what do you want to know?”

“What’s it like?” Jackson asks in a rush like Jinyoung might change his mind at any second. A Donkey Kong with a star runs him over but he can’t bring himself to care. “Like…what do you _do_?”

“What do we do? Well, I dress up and then…you know.”

“No I _don’t_ which is why I‘m asking.”

Sighing, Jinyoung pauses the game and turns toward him fully, grabs his shoulders and looks him in the eyes. “Well, Jackson, when two men find each other really hot—”

Jackson shrieks and shoves him into the couch while Jinyoung bursts out laughing. “Shut up! I don’t need all of that!”

“Well then what are you asking for? And why are you pretending like you don’t have a porno with two dudes that look suspiciously like me and Jaebeom bookmarked on your laptop?” Jinyoung asks through a bout of giggles. Jackson’s eyes blow wide and his controller drops to the ground, his silent questioning panic easy to decipher. “Remember when I was at your apartment and you told me to find some recipe that you had bookmarked?” Jinyoung explains amusedly.

“ _That doesn’t explain anything_.”

“Well the recipe link was in Chinese, which I can’t read, so I just clicked until I found what I thought you were looking for. You should really keep those in a separate folder.”

“Jinyoung, seriously, listen to me. _Seriously._ ” Jackson grips Jinyoung’s shoulders now, still shaking as he quietly laughs, pleading with his voice and eyes. “Seriously, Jinyoung, I only did it because I couldn’t believe how uncanny it was!”

“Of course you did.” Jinyoung reaches up to brush Jackson’s hair back into place. “If it makes you feel any better, we’ve always said you’d be our third.” Out of the group that is. Ultimately, Jinyoung doesn’t know if he has the fortitude to deal with two whiny bottoms who both claim that they are neither of those things _at the exact same time_. Hyunwoo is at the top of his general list. Emphasis on top.

There’s a beat of silence as Jackson takes this in. “…Really?” Jinyoung nods and Jackson lets go of him and leans back against the couch. “…Huh. I would’ve assumed Youngjae. Or Mark.”

Holding up fingers Jinyoung counts off, “Youngjae waffles between second and third. Mark’s fourth.”

“Wait. Who’s the other second?” Jackson asks.

“Yugyeom.” Jinyoung says.

“ _What_?”

“Anyways,” Jinyoung plows on, waving Jackson off and ignoring the small crisis he’s put him in. “It’s not even a true fetish. He just wants to cuddle for 3 hours and then sleep.”

Barely recovered from each mine of info Jinyoung has sprinkled into this conversation, Jackson all but gapes like a fish as he stares at Jinyoung. “Really?”

“Or for me to ignore him for 3 hours while he tries to get my attention. And then sleep.”

“ _Really_?”

“You’re saying that a lot, you know,” Jinyoung teases. “But _really_ it’s not—it’s not that…different. From before. He just dotes on me a lot, mostly.” Maybe he’s underselling it. A bit. Jackson doesn’t need to know that.

With tiniest amount of bitterness, Jackson says under his breath, “He already does that.”

Jinyoung roughly shoves him against the cushions, much like Jackson had done to him earlier, before he quips, “He dotes on me _more,_ then _._ I think he likes the taking care of me aspect.” There’s a beat as Jinyoung thinks things over. “And that I’m meaner to him.” Narrowing his eyes in thought, Jinyoung nods slowly and continues, “Yeah, he definitely likes that too.”

Jackson’s face screws up as he says, “Seriously, the two of you—” Jinyoung slaps at his shoulder. “—are the epitome of love.”

Jinyoung rubs the spot on Jackson’s arm where he had just slapped, gently gripping him to pull him closer before throwing an arm around Jackson’s shoulders and tucking him into his side snugly. Quieting his voice conspiringly, Jinyoung leans in close like they’re in a room full of potential eavesdroppers. “Do you want to know what the best part is?” Jinyoung asks lowly. There’s a moment of hesitation before Jackson nods and Jinyoung’s mouth is dangerously close to forming a smirk. He leans even closer, breath sliding over Jackson’s ear and whispers, “He’ll do about anything I want as long as I’m wearing the ears.”

Jackson turns his head and Jinyoung leans back just enough so they don’t collide, noses almost brushing. He narrows his eyes, staring Jinyoung down like if he squints hard enough he’ll see directly into Jinyoung’s brain to know if he’s being bullshitted or not, and Jinyoung stares back grinning from ear to ear as he tries not to laugh.

Who knows what he finds in the midst of Jinyoung’s gleefully projected smoke screen, but it’s enough to get him to back off and switch gears.

“Honestly, I really wanted to know if that’s all you wear: just the ears?” Jackson asks.

The grin drops from Jinyoung’s face. Oh, yikes. This is the part of the conversation Jinyoung _really_ doesn’t want to have. With a swift and graceful ease, Jinyoung sweeps his controller back up and un-pauses the game as a distraction. Jackson yells when the familiar music starts blaring into the room again, jerking away from Jinyoung and scrambling to pick up his own controller, but has to immediately take a shot anyway when his character ultimately shoots off the edge in his haste.

It’s with a forced casualness Jinyoung manages to reply, “Basically, yeah. There’s also a collar, too.” Jinyoung does not mention the tail. Or the _paws_ Jaebeom’s been not so subtly hinting at wanting to throw into the mix. Jinyoung will do a lot of things for love, like pretend he keeps up with _every_ anime Jaebeom watches so they can discuss it later instead of maybe watching half of them and reading the summaries of the episodes of the other half on wiki, but he has to draw a line in the sand somewhere, and it would be a bit difficult to draw anything at all while he was wearing paws.

Unfortunately for Jinyoung, his distraction doesn’t last as long as he would like, and soon Jackson’s pressing forward with, “How’d you even find one that fit?”

Any energy Jinyoung had left leaves him. “I tried them on in the store.”

Silence stretches like taffy between them, the cheerful upbeat music from the TV tauntingly filling up the long pause in the conversation. Jackson’s character falls off the course. Neither bother with the shot.

“Jinyoung,” Jackson says slowly, voice hushed with creeping horror seeping into his tone, “you didn’t.”

Voice void of emotion, Jinyoung replies mechanically, “I did. I tried them on and I picked them out there. Jaebeom just said he was buying them for a _really_ fat cat.” He fires off two green shells with startling accuracy that smash into two different CPUs. He barrels past them to use the third spinning around his avatar to physically slam into a Dry Bones to knock them off the track. “‘An absolute chubster’ is what he told the _very_ helpful shop attendant.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Jackson whispers, terrified.

Dead eyes accompany his voice as Jinyoung languidly turns his head to stare Jackson down. “You have to choose your battles, Jackson.”

Jackson is impressed Jinyoung’s character stays steadfast and on the track the entire time he stares at him.

“Well,” Jackson starts nervously, not sure what kind of wasp hive he’d smashed his way into with all of this questioning. “Is that what you two do all the time now? Is that why he’s been in such a good mood?”

Jinyoung scoffs, turning back to the game. “Hell no; it’s only on occasion and it’s barely even a thing. It hasn’t changed anything at all.”

And that’s the story Jinyoung’s sticking to even under the pain of death.

“You sure about that?” Jackson teases, nudging Jinyoung with his elbow.

“If he’s in a good mood it’s because the hair follicles at his hairline aren’t shedding as fast anymore since I bought him new shampoo.”

Jackson pitches back snickering, almost falling off again right before the race finishes.

“Another Rainbow Road tourney?” Jinyoung suggests, already loading up the next game.

Jackson puts a hand over Jinyoung’s to stop him, eyebrow stitched together, voice dramatically raspy as he whispers darkly, “Only if it’s 200cc.”

“Oh, you are so on.”

 

* * *

 

The facts are these: both of them are drunk, the manager is asleep, and they want doughnuts. It doesn’t take Jinyoung long even in his inebriated state to deduce he needs a pair of cat ears to save the night. And their stomachs.

The plan is simple: Jinyoung will creep as quietly as he can into Jaebeom’s room (wearing Jaebeom’s favorite pair of ears of course—and yes, there were enough that Jaebeom could, and had, ranked them in terms of what ones he liked best), gingerly wake him up, and pout and whine until an endeared and love-struck Jaebeom agreed to drive him and Jackson across town to get snacks.

He executes the plan _perfectly._

At least, that’s what his alcohol addled brain tells him.

In reality, drunk Jinyoung might not be as graceful as he thinks he is. Instead of slinking into Jaebeom’s room like some sort of sexy cat burglar, it’s more apt to say he smashes in there like he’s trying to tell his mom his younger brothers are building a spaceship to Mars in the backyard during their summer vacation. And instead of gradually rousing Jaebeom from his bedside, he trips on one of Jaebeom’s startled cats underfoot and lands sprawled out on top of him, bashing his nose into his cheek. The whining part of the plan does end up being fulfilled.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Jinyoung whines loudly into Jaebeom’s jaw, and in the cloudy haze of half sleep he’s in, Jaebeom has a hard time differentiating it from the equally perturbed meowing his cats are making because of Jinyoung’s disturbance.

Jaebeom is love-struck and endeared, though.

“Jinyoung?” Jaebeom murmurs, his voice throaty from sleep. His arm automatically winds around his waist to keep him in place when Jinyoung starts to slide off of him.

“Food,” is the only thing Jinyoung manages to say. ‘Food’? What? Why did he come into Jaebeom’s room, again? What does it have to do with food? Racking his boozed-up brain doesn’t help him remember why he’s in here in the first place, but, wow, Jaebeom is so warm, and so soft and _sturdy_ and he should just curl up here and sl—

“You want food? Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something?”

Right! Of course, that was it! How could he forget about his desperate hankering for something deep fried and covered in sugar? He had an important mission to accomplish as Master Jaebeom Manipulator Extraordinaire. He pushes himself up just enough to kiss Jaebeom on his cheek—though it’s more like on his ear—and starts his magic.

“If I don’t get doughnuts I’ll die, Jaebeom.” Perfect. Subtle, adorable, a gentle wheedling about what he wants; he’s _so_ good at this. “Jackson will also die. Him first, though, so you’ll still have time to save me.”

Jaebeom sits up, carefully keeping Jinyoung clinging to him so he doesn’t roll on to the floor. “Are you asking me to get you doughnuts?” Jaebeoms asks amusedly, glancing over to his clock to see what time it is, and cringes a bit when he does. No wonder Jinyoung had broken down his door—their manager was surely asleep by now.

Jinyoung nods, looks up at him with wide, pitiful eyes, and a pair of cat ears comically crooked on his head. Jaebeom sighs and fixes them.

“Okay, let me get dressed.” Jaebeom says. He can feel the exhaustion seeping back into him but it’s just doughnuts. It’ll be quick.

 

* * *

 

They’re halfway to the closest place that’s open and sells doughnuts when Jaebeom tunes in to whatever argument Jackson and Jinyoung are having in the back of his car—and it’s solely because he hears his own name. They started out squabbling about Mario Kart: Jinyoung bragging about ending up on the podium twice, Jackson claiming he cheated and let the CPU drive his Mii, Jinyoung replying it wasn’t his fault he had good hand-eye coordination while Jackson’s hands had the steadiness of a shake weight—Jaebeom turns up his music and blocks them out at that point. But now—

“—should ask Jaebeom—”

“—this has nothing to do with Jaebeom! He’s not paying for it—!” Jaebeom relaxes a bit at that. There was one positive in this. He takes a quick glance into his rearview mirror and sees a flash of black ears.

…Okay two positives.

“But chicken is better late night food! And it goes better with beer! It’s just the logical choice I thought you were _smart_ , Jackson!”

“But we’re playing games? What says Best Gaming Bros better than pizza, dude, it’s simple! Maths!” Jackson smacks the back of his hand into his other palm to punctuate the last two words of his sentence and Jinyoung scoffs.

“What the hell does this have to do with math?”

Jaebeom is confused because he thought they were getting doughnuts and now they’re talking about different food? Do they still even want the doughnuts? Where the hell was he supposed to be driving? Gas was too god damn expensive for this. “Wait you want…both?”

Jackson gasps. “Oh shit! Jinyoung, we should just get both!”

Jaebeom hears a loud smack and Jackson’s signature yelp. “You’re such a genius I could kiss you.”

“Excuse me?” The car swerves when Jaebeom cranes his neck to look at them in the backseat. That is a bad idea because, yeah he’s driving or whatever and is 5 seconds away from careening into oncoming traffic, but he has to face the direct impact of Jinyoung’s eyes crinkled up joyfully, his cheeks pinchable and rosy, full lips pulled into a grin while he cuddles Jackson close to his chest, ears still sitting securing on his head. It’s only for a flash, but it’s more than enough to make Jaebeom’s heart set into a rhythm that has the same BPM of a Skrillex song.

Or maybe that’s from the threat of imminent car crash related death.

And it’s this image of Jinyoung that dances in his mind’s eye when a sweet voice filters over one of Jaebeom’s slightly less sultry playlists, a borderline whine lacing the edges of it together as a beguiling, “Jaebeom,” floats into his ears from the backseat. He _knows_ this voice is trouble, knows down to his organelles there isn’t a single good thing that has ever happened to him when that voice gets thrown in the mix, but he doesn’t have the heart to shut it down when Jinyoung continues coaxingly, “could you make one more stop for us, pretty please?”

So that’s how he ends up driving all around the city at the ass-crack of night trying to find the two of them food. Maybe it would have been a little easier, but Jackson insisted on entering every establishment and inquiring on the quality of the ingredients and whether they were non-GMO and organic and farmed with sustainable methods.

(“…this is a Pizza Hut, Jackson.”

“I still need to check!”)

Eventually, Jaebeom just told Jackson to sit still and got some pizza from a random place. And of course he had to pay himself, because _both_ of them forgot their wallets. _Of course._

But at least they’re on their way back home now, at least he can finally crawl back into bed and let the dark, soothing hands of unconsciousness claim h—

“ _Jaebeom,”_ Jinyoung whines directly next to Jaebeom’s head. He grips the steering wheel tightly and inhales deeply through his nose.

“Holy shit, Jinyoung, don’t _do_ that I’m _driving_ —why aren’t you buckled, anyway, sit _down—_!”

“We forgot the doughnuts,” Jinyoung continues pitifully and Jaebeom can feel a part of his soul shrivel as the hope of soon finding refuge between his own sheets is ripped from him.

“Okay, guys, I’ll…turn around. Again.”

“You’re the best leader ever in the entire world!” Jackson cheers from the back. Jaebeom just sighs in reply. A sympathetic noise escapes Jinyoung’s throat and he presses closer.

“I’m sorry, baby,” Jinyoung purrs into Jaebeom’s ear. The death grip he has on the steering wheel only gets tighter. “I’ll be sure to make it up to you when we get back home,” Jinyoung whispers, hand sliding down and around the arm rest to squeeze Jaebeom’s thigh. Jaebeom is unfairly conscious of the reality that they are in a car and he is driving and Jackson is right there and _he is driving—_

“O-Okay. Okay, just—please sit down—” Jaebeom stammers weakly. Jinyoung _sounds_ smug when he hums in agreement and settles back in next to Jackson.

Well. If he’s not getting any sleep tonight, at least he has _something_ to show for it.

 

* * *

 

And this is what Jaebeom has to show for it: two passed out bandmates on the couch and a mess of food that looks like wild animals tore through it.

God, he’s exhausted.

Sighing, Jaebeom carefully picks through the mess and begins the tedious job of putting all the leftovers away; he paid for this shit, he’s not letting it go to waste.

With one last glance at the two curled around each other on the couch, Jaebeom tiredly makes his way back to his room. There’s a moment where he thinks about waking them up and properly depositing them in Jinyoung’s room, but the mere possibility of having to face their antics is enough to dash any last vestiges of goodwill dead. At this point, all he wants is sleep. Or more like a nap, considering how late it is.

He doesn’t know how long he drifts off for before he feels movement next to his head and he groans. Of course it’s already time to feed his cats of course he has to face more responsibilities that take him away from his bed of course he can’t get just five more minutes—

“I love you.” Jaebeom hears from a very human and not-cat voice and he rolls over and cracks an eye open to see Jinyoung’s puffy face snuggling into his pillow. “Jackson took my bed,” he mumbles sleepily in way of explanation. Honestly, Jaebeom didn’t really need one for Jinyoung climbing in his bed but he appreciates it. “I thought about sleeping in that crazy cat tree you bought. Climbing all the way to the top. Not even Yugyeom could bother me up there.”

“Jinyoungie,” Jaebeom mumbles back as he rolls over and throws an arm around him, “please go the fuck to sleep.”

“Okay,” Jinyoung mumbles back and then immediately starts snoring and oh, if that’s not the most beautiful sound Jaebeom’s heard all night.

Eventually, he really is woken up by his actual cats to get fed, their impatient meowing chorusing around his room. He’s about to get up when he feels Jinyoung moving around next to him. A hand runs through his hair and Jaebeom sinks back into his pillow automatically.

“Go back to sleep, Jaebeom, I got it.” Jinyoung murmurs quietly, pecking Jaebeom against his forehead before he leans up and says louder, “C’mon, Nora and brats, leave your father alone.” Jinyoung makes his way out of the bed and Jaebeom cracks his eyes open just as he makes his way out of the door, one of his cats hanging back to look at Jaebeom still snuggled down in his bed before scampering off after Jinyoung.

He’s drifting off again when Jinyoung returns, still drowsy, immediately curling around Jaebeom’s back once he climbs into the bed. “I left the door open so they can come back in, whenever.” Jinyoung says. Jaebeom hums in acknowledgement, hand coming to cup around Jinyoung’s that’s resting on his stomach. Just as he’s about to finally fall asleep, he remembers what he didn’t say back last night.

Jaebeom turns his head slightly, not sure if Jinyoung’s already back asleep. “Jinyoung?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, too.”

 

* * *

 

When it came to the rest of the members knowing and asking about the cat stuff, Jackson he had been expecting, prepared for even. But Mark? Mark didn’t give a shit what anyone did as long as he could play with his forks and knives, or whatever that game he kept playing recently was called, uninterrupted.

Jinyoung’s reading by himself in his room, all around having a nice, quiet, relaxing moment to himself when he hears a soft knock before Mark pokes his head in.

“Sorry, but real quick, do you know where my t-shirt is? The white one with red lettering on it? Says ‘you can’t spell bareback without reba’?” Mark asks apologetically.

Jinyoung sets his book down for a moment as he thinks it over. “It could have gotten mixed up in the laundry, but I don’t think I saw it. I’ll keep a look out for it, though.”

Mark nods and points at Jinyoung’s dresser. “Would you mind if I took a second to check?”

“Not at all,” Jinyoung says. He leans up and offers, “I could help you if want?”

Mark smiles but waves him off heading over to Jinyoung’s dresser. “Don’t worry about it.” Jinyoung smiles back and picks up his book when it hits him. Mark’s about to go through his dresser; he is going to _open his drawers and expose their contents to the light of day._ He throws his book down and jumps off the bed, watching in horror as Mark reaches towards one of the drawers in the middle. “My shirts aren’t—!” Jinyoung’s cry is cut off when Mark pulls it open, his protest too late. “...in that drawer.” Mark freezes, staring down into the drawer. It’s stuffed full of cat ears, neatly lined up in stacks arranged by color.

Sighing, Jinyoung walks over to close it, hoping Mark will hate this scenario so much he’ll just walk away. Instead, as he starts to push it close, it’s stopped by Mark tugging back on the knob to keep it open.

Oh, here it fucking goes.

“Why do you have so many?” Mark asks quietly. Fair question, and easy enough to answer.

Jinyoung proceeds calmly and blandly, like he was explaining his daily commute, “He likes to take pictures.” There’s no need to explain who the “he” is in this case, they both know what this is about and Jinyoung isn’t going to do Mark the disrespect of playing dumb at this point.

“Right.” That doesn’t explain anything. There’s only silence for long seconds that drag like a spoon through honey. Neither are budging, both staring into the drawer. Mark reaches forward and Jinyoung grabs his wrist

“Don’t touch those.” Mark looks at the ears in silent question. “The ones on that side are for…use.”

“Jinyoung. I want to never have heard that.”

“And people in hell want ice water, Mark. But you both have to suffer for your crimes on this earth.” Jinyoung states patiently, like he’s explaining to his grandmother how Snapchat works. He lets go of Mark’s wrist and they both stare silently into the drawer until Mark clears his throat and finally looks at Jinyoung, expression pained.

“Jinyoungie. I… _support_ yo—”

“Can you please just get out of my room and forget you ever saw this.”

“Yeah, I can do that.”

And Mark tries not to think about, tries _really hard_ not to think about it, he doesn’t _want to think about it_ but unfortunately, sometimes Mark doesn’t get what he wants.

It’s during one of his court mandated playdates with his daughter Coco and Yugyeom’s bitching about Jinyoung seemingly getting away with everything more than ever now, apparently. And Mark _remembers_. But he doesn’t just remember the drawer stocked full of ears placed too neatly and lovingly to be done by Jinyoung himself, but also remembers something Jackson said. He had heard ‘Jaebeom’ and ‘Jinyoung’ and ‘cat’ and blocked most of it out but he had heard a part of it, and now he’s realizing that something was _vital._

“Jackson told me it was the cat ears,” Mark cuts in the middle of Yugyeom’s tirade. Yugyeom and Youngjae turn to look at him. “Apparently he’ll do whatever Jinyoung asks if he’s wearing them.”

There’s silence as they all process this in their own way. Youngjae is the first to speak up. “Do you think this work for anyone else?” Youngjae asks slowly.

“…how about we find out.” So, yeah, Mark tried to block it out but if he was going to suffer he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to gain something from it. He loves Jinyoung, loves Jaebeom, but doesn’t want to think about them fucking normally, and really doesn’t want to think about them going at it while Jinyoung meows. Oh, god, now he’s thinking about Jinyoung meowing he needs a drink.

They start going through Jinyoung’s drawer, and Youngjae reaches for same ones Mark did, and gets his hand slapped away. “Not that pair!”

“Why not?” Youngjae asks, cradling his hand before he pushes at Mark’s shoulder.

“Trust me. Just. Don’t touch those.”

It’s thankfully not too long before Jaebeom and Jinyoung return home. The three of them go silent, sitting patiently on the couch, waiting for the two of them to enter the living room. Jinyoung must have made some sort of joke because Jaebeom is laughing loudly as they walk in, but it gets cut off abruptly when his eyes land on the three of them, all sitting with their legs crossed under them and different colored cat ears perched on their heads. Jinyoung’s a few steps behind him and starts to ask, “What are you—?” before he seems them. He does a U-turn and heads right back from where he came. He is _not_ dealing with this. Jaebeom is stuck between going after him and staring at the rest of them, but Mark makes the decision for him by slinking up next to him and putting his arms around Jaebeom’s sides.

“Don’t worry about it, Jaebummie, I’ll get him. You should relax, you’ve been on your feet all day.”

That’s the cue for the other two to get up and drag Jaebeom to the couch.

“So, how was your day?” Youngjae asks pleasantly, pressing up against Jaebeom’s side.

Jaebeom’s fingers start drumming an erratic pattern on his leg. “It—it was good.”

Yugyeom hums, pressing in closer to Jaebeom’s other side. “Yeah, that’s nice—so anyway, why are there so many different ears?”

Jaebeom stares straight ahead, not trusting himself to look either of them in the face. “I…like to—to um. Take pictures.”

“Mmhm, that’s cool…hey you want to go out for dinner tonight?” Youngjae asks Yugyeom, stretching his arm behind Jaebeom’s back to tug lightly on Yugyeom’s shirt.

“What a mighty fine idea, Youngjae! There’s this new place that opened up recently that’s I’ve heard _so_ much about, we should make a reservation.”

“I’ve heard about it too; what a coincidence!” Youngjae presses his check against Jaebeom’s shoulder. “But it’s _so_ expensive you need to reserve with a credit card in case you cancel last minute, you know; it’s _that_ popular.”

Yugyeom cuddles in closer to Jaebeom. “Hey, you wouldn’t mind calling in for all of us, would you, hyung?” He says in a cutesy voice.

Youngjae also cuddles close, wrapping his hand around Jaebeom’s bicep. “It’d be so sweet of you, _hyung_ ; you take such good care of us, _hyung_ ,” Youngjae says, mimicking Yugyeom’s tone.

A quivering breath stumbles out of Jaebeom right before he buries his face in his hands. A muffled, “Sure, no problem,” ekes out between his fingers with a quivering exhale.

Jinyoung bursts back into the room dragging along Mark who’s hanging on to the back of his shirt weakly, giggling in between bursts of, “Oh c’mon, Jinyoung.” He lets go when Jinyoung pauses long enough to snatch the light brown pair of ears off Mark’s head before continuing his march to the couch.

Jinyoung plucks the ears off Youngjae and Yugyeom’s heads with brutal speed. “Stop it,” is all he says to them, darkly and lowly, making sure to make pointed prolonged eye contact with both of them. He grabs Jaebeom’s wrist, who’s still hanging his head and hiding his face, and drags him off to his room.

The door slams and Yugyeom sighs. “That’s too much power for one man to have.”

Mark picks up Coco and plops into the space Jaebeom was escorted from. “Too bad Jinyoung’s going to hide them now.”

They all sigh, all of their grand Jaebeom-centered plans broken before they could begin to take flight…until a lightbulb goes off in Youngjae’s head.

“…We _could_ just buy our own.”

There’s a beat of stillness as it clicks, and then a rush of movement as all of them pull out their phones.

 

* * *

 

Jinyoung thinks it’s fine—whatever, maybe the whole group knows but that doesn’t change anything! It’s fine, his life is normal it’s _fine_. Maybe he’s lost most of his dignity with the way Yugyeom shakes bags of cat treats at him, now, but he still has shreds of it left. At least he’s not wearing The Paws. Plus, he can’t ignore the bonuses! Like getting Jaebeom to wake up at an ungodly hour to drive him all the way to an overpriced pancake house for a free short stack.

Jaebeom’s woken up by an unusually heavy weight on abdomen and something batting at his face.

“Why the hell aren’t you awake, yet,” Jinyoung snaps from above him. “It’s free food; what the hell did you do with the man I love.”

Not that he would it admit it in this moment, but Jaebeom feels giddy to hear that even though he’s being yelled at. He takes the hand Jinyoung has resting on his face and kisses it. “Good morning to you too, kitten.”

Jinyoung swallows thickly. “We’re not doing that right now.”

“Are we not? Usually only my cats slap me awake at 5AM crying to get fed.”

Jinyoung flounders for a response, heat rapidly rising to his ears. “Don’t—change the subject.”

“I’m not, I just don’t get why this is such a big deal, in the first place; it’s just pancakes. Both of us can afford pancakes. Both of us can afford a lot of pancakes.”

“But Mark said this place reminded him of Denny’s! Do you not remember Denny’s, Jaebeom?” Jinyoung implores with wide eyes, hands bunching up the fabric of Jaebeom’s shirt around his collar.

“Yeah, that was…yeah. Of course I remember Denny’s.” It was a hard place to forget.

“Then why are you arguing with me?”

“I’m not arguing—”

“Plus it’s FREE. _My_ Jaebeom would _never_ forget about free food.”

“ _Your_ Jaebeom didn’t forget anything.” Jaebeom tugs Jinyoung’s hands off of his shirt and lightly pushes him away so he can sit up and pull back the covers to reveal he was already dressed. “My alarm is supposed to go off in less than 5 minutes, I’m basically all ready to go.”

Jinyoung is extremely pleased with this, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to show it. “Basically? What else do you need! Hurry up!” Jinyoung whines, pushing insistently at Jaebeom’s chest.

“My good morning kiss,” Jaebeom says with a grin, leaning in towards Jinyoung.

Jinyoung crosses his arms and leans away from him, staring at him with a blank disapproval. “Where do you learn shit like this?”

“I’m just taking a page out of your book,” Jaebeom answers easily, laughing when Jinyoung’s frown deepens.

“Gross. Don’t ever insult me like that again.”

Jaebeom smiles bigger and grabs his car keys off the nightstand, waving them in front of Jinyoung’s face and watches as his eyes track their movement. “One kiss stands between you and free pancakes,” Jaebeom teases. Jinyoung swats at them but Jaebeom expertly snatches them back before Jinyoung can grab them out of the air.

“Jaebeom,” Jinyoung bounces and whines in his lap. Dangling the keys in front of him again, Jaebeom laughs as he sees Jinyoung get more impatient, frown getting deeper and lips getting poutier. Jinyoung goes for them again—at least that’s what Jaebeom thinks he’s doing—and is a little surprised when Jinyoung’s hand latches shackle tight around his wrist, instead. He closes his fist the best he can around the keys and calls out a warning, “Hey—!”

Jinyoung leans forward, bringing Jaebeom’s hand to mouth, brushes lips against his knuckles and murmurs, “Good morning, Jaebeom.” Jaebeom feels like he’s one broadcasting blush edit away from swooning like he’s in a drama. “Can we go now?”

“We—uh, we can—go now.” Jinyoung doesn’t waste anytime bounding off of the bed, dragging Jaebeom along with him.

The pancakes? Honestly, they’re _alright_ , but Jinyoung is beaming the entire time, so Jaebeom can easily put this in his top 20 meal experiences, at least.

Getting back after their mediocre breakfast, they linger in the common space between their respective bedrooms, not ready to slip back into bed and end their morning breakfast date.

“You know,” Jaebeom starts smoothly, moving in a step closer to Jinyoung, “it’s still really, early.” Jinyoung hums in acknowledgement, body naturally swaying closer to Jaebeom. “And no one’s up yet.”

“Is that so?” Jinyoung replies, a small smile quirking the corning of his lips.

“So maybe we could…?” Jaebeom trails off, hand wrapping around Jinyoung’s waist to gently pull him closer.

Jinyoung laughs lightly, “Yeah?” His hands come to rest on Jaebeom’s shoulders.

“And maybe,” Jaebeom whispers close to Jinyoung’s ear, “you could put on that little gift—”

Jinyoung inhales sharply and takes a full step back out of Jaebeom’s embrace. “For the last damn time I’m not wearing the paws, Jaebeom.” Jinyoung snaps.

“But they’d look _so cute!_ ” Jaebeom whines. Damn it. Jinyoung hates that kicked puppy look. Jaebeom’s clearly been spending too much time with Jackson. He can already feel parts of his resolve start to flake away.

“Why do you even want me to? In that scenario I can’t play with your—”

“I’ll do all the work. Anything you want.”

Jinyoung blinks once and then he’s roughly tugging Jaebeom forward and patting him down with fervor.

“What are you doing?” Jaebeom sputters confusedly.

“Where—where are they? Where are the paws, Jaebeom?” It reminds him too much of a cat pawing at him for a treat. He tries not to laugh as he grabs Jinyoung’s arms.

“Wait—I don’t—”

“I want to put the paws on right fucking now, Jaebeom.”

Incredulously through a bright laugh Jaebeom says, “I don’t have them on me!”

“Go get them.” Jinyoung pulls away and strides to his room. He doesn’t have to look back to see the dumbfounded look on Jaebeom’s face to know it’s there, but he does hear him practically sprint to his room and starts chuckling himself.

By the time Jaebeom has unearthed the devil’s playthings, Jinyoung is sitting ready with ears already on, collars laid out. He usually lets Jaebeom pick what one he wants Jinyoung to wear because it’s not like Jinyoung is the one that has to look at it, why the hell would he care? He almost changes his mind when he sees them, all black except for the pink, plush parts of fabric that mimic toe beans, but closes his eyes and steels himself when Jaebeom sits down next to him.

“Once,” Jinyoung says as he slips his hand into one of them. Jesus. It’s like slipping on the most unsexy mitten he’s ever put on in his life, and he’s never thought of mittens as particularly sexy. “I’ll do this one time. And if I don’t like it, you never bring it up again.” He holds out his free hand so Jaebeom can help with the second one.

“Whatever you want, kitten,” Jaebeom punctuates with a kiss to the inside of his wrist as he slides Jinyoung’s ticket to furry hell over his hand.

The embarrassment washes over him and he tries to deflect. “And I’m not meowing. I can’t. We can try the no talking thing, again, but it didn’t really work—”

Jaebeom cuts him off easily and directly, “Because you have too much to bitch about.”

“Because I _what_?”

“Because you’re an expert at giving feedback,” Jaebeom tries again. Jinyoung wrinkles his nose but otherwise lets its slide. Mostly because it’s true. Complaining is one of his favorite hobbies, no doubt.

“Just pick a collar already.” He goes to throw one at Jaebeom before he realizes he can’t throw a single thing with _furry handcuffs_ on. Is this is fault for jokingly suggesting they use a pair of fuzzy handcuffs that one time? If this Jaebeom’s interpretation of that?

Instead, Jinyoung shovels the lot of them in Jaebeom’s direction, who rolls his lips between his teeth at Jinyoung’s helplessness.

But Jinyoung lets that slide too, because at least now Jaebeom is at last starting to choose between the collars. This is the other reason he likes to let Jaebeom pick: he holds each up to Jinyoung’s neck, the backs of his knuckles occasionally brushing against his skin, before neatly laying them back down, sometimes going back to another, waffling between a few like he can’t choose. Jinyoung gets impatient and bats at Jaebeom’s chest, not being able to do much else with fucking _paws_ on. It’s like having his hands in the world’s smallest, ugliest, most useless boxing gloves ever made.

And he’ll be honest about it: Jinyoung likes control, likes nudging people into doing what he wants, likes it even more when that person is Jaebeom. But he feels out of control with the loss of his hands, like he has to just lay back and let Jaebeom take care of him. Which is what he _wants_ to do, but he usually likes to be more…directive about how it’s done. Usually, if Jaebeom wasn’t moving fast enough for his liking, he’d grip his shirt and yank him closer and tell him directly to get a move on, but he can’t this time. He has to wait for Jaebeom to move at his own pace, purposely dragging it out to watch Jinyoung get more and more fidgety with every brush of his fingers against his neck. But eventually, Jaebeom finally chooses one to clasp around his neck, the modest constrictiveness enough by itself to induce a pleasant buzz to flow through his body, and finally starts to kiss and gently lay him down. He pulls away to brush his thumb against the pendant sitting against Jinyoung’s throat, smiling when he swallows.

“So pretty,” Jaebeom whispers. Jinyoung flushes at the compliment, turning his head away, eyes fluttering closed and body wriggling as Jaebeom’s thumb continues to drag down his throat, down his chest, before resting his palm heavy and warm against Jinyoung’s stomach. His other hand comes up to tenderly gripping Jinyoung’s chin to turn his back towards him.

Jaebeom leans down to kiss him again when they both hear a small meow and some scratching at door. Jaebeom frowns and sits up. “What was…?”

“Nothing. It’s probably coming from the alleyway, or something.” Jinyoung wraps his legs around Jaebeom’s waist and hauls him down. They were just getting started and he did _not_ put on _paws_ to be ignored.

The meowing starts again, and Jaebeom puts hands on mattress next to Jinyoung, pushes his upper body away from him. “Wait, wait, Jinyoung, I think that’s coming from your door.”

Jinyoung throws his head back and groans. “Maybe one of your cats got locked out of your room when we left. We’ll take care of it when we’re done.”

Wrong thing to say. A worried whine wheedles its way out of his throat and he’s pulling at Jinyoung’s legs and heaving himself off the bed before Jinyoung can even take another breath.

Affronted, Jinyoung pulls one of the paws off with teeth, chucks it at Jaebeom, and it bounces harmlessly off the back of Jaebeom’s head. It at least gets him to stop in his tracks. “What the hell are you doing? Get back here!”

Jaebeom’s eyes are wide when he faces him. “But my baby needs me!”

“Yes! Exactly! So _come back to me_.” The pitiful meowing gets louder and there’s more scratching at Jinyoung’s door. Jaebeom looks torn between the door and Jinyoung until Jinyoung slumps over onto his bed and sighs. “Get your damn cat, Jaebeom.”

Jaebeom doesn’t waste any time in opening the door and a small white cat comes bounding into Jinyoung’s room. Jaebeom scoops her up and Jinyoung hates how cute the image of Jaebeom cradling the small kitten in his arms is. He pets behind her ears and coos, “I’m so sorry, baby, you must have been so lonely by yourself.”

Jinyoung throws the other paw at Jaebeom, and this one bounces off his shoulder. Jaebeom startles and looks up at him. Oh good. At least he’s finally remembered he’s here. “I’ll be right back, I promise I—”

“Don’t bother,” Jinyoung sighs, taking off the ears and deftly unhooking the collar to toss them on the floor. He mumbles, “We should probably sleep in while we can, anyway,” while he shimmies out of his pants before burying himself in his covers. Yeah, he’s pouting, and maybe being a bit dramatic about it, but what is the point of dressing up like a cat when he’s _still_ going to lose out to Jaebeom’s actual cats every time.

Even the paws weren’t enough?

God damn _paws._

There’s hesitation swirling around Jaebeom as he stares at Jinyoung pitifully. “Okay, Jinyoung,” Jaebeom replies in a small voice but Jinyoung will _not_ be guilted, not today, no siree. Fuck the high ground, Jinyoung has the furry ground: _he put on paws._

Despite his agitation, he almost instantly drifts back to sleep (they had gotten up way too early for some dry pancakes; why the hell he was so insistent on that?), already in a twilight between the waking and dreaming worlds, when he hears a few soft knocks on his door. Even though he ignores it, the door still opens and Jaebeom calls out gingerly, “Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung lifts his head up before he remembers that he’s supposed to be mad, but then he _does_ remember, and throws the cover over his head. He hears his door close and then shuffling towards his bed before feeling the weight of Jaebeom’s body sliding in behind him. Jinyoung has half a mind to kick him out. The covers are pulled down just enough for an arm to wind its way around his waist and a face to bury in the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Jaebeom apologizes, voice slightly muffled, but Jinyoung can feel the vibrations of his words dance over his skin.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Jinyoung asks instead of acknowledging the apology.

“I sleep better with you.” Damn it. Of course that makes him stupid happy. How the hell is he supposed to exile him now?

Jinyoung quickly turns around in his arms and pushes his face into Jaebeom’s chest. “You should apologize to yourself first. That was your chance for paws and you blew it. You’re going to have to try real hard to get a second chance.” He wants to let Jaebeom know he’s willing to do it again, later, that he’s not that upset, that he wants him to stay.

Jaebeom chuckles as he pulls Jinyoung in. “Real hard?”

Smiling, Jinyoung ducks his head in closer. “So hard. The hardest ever.”

Jaebeom presses a kiss to Jinyoung’s head, content to just be sleeping next to him.

 

* * *

 

After a while, Jinyoung eventually stops acting the rest of the group doesn’t know. If they don’t have the decency to at least pretend they don’t know about Jaebeom’s cat fetish and Jinyoung’s role in it, then why the hell should he.

“Why are there spandex with glory holes cut in the back in the trash?” Yugyeom asks suspiciously.

Okay, maybe there’s a certain degree of pretending he’s still going to uphold.

“Probably something BamBam left while he was over here. Seems like something he’d be into. Why were you digging through the trash anyway? Looking for your next meal?”

“They were on top!”

“Wait— _glory hole?_ ” Jaebeom splutters.

“Seemed like a good way to describe it to me,” Yugyeom mumbles.

“You’re too young to know about stuff like that.” Jinyoung reaches up for Yugyeom’s ear but Yugyeom jerks head back before he can grab him. Jinyoung haphazardly drops the couple of books he had in his other hand on coffee table so he can grapple Yugyeom in place and Jaebeom immediately straightens them up before heading to the kitchen.

“Why are you being messier than usual?” Yugyeom bites at Jinyoung as he fends off his attack.

Jinyoung pauses long enough to simper at him, “It’s foreplay.” Yugyeom makes a disgusted noise and shoves at Jinyoung’s shoulder who slaps him back.

Before Yugyeom can strike again Jaebeom’s voice cuts in, “It’s too early for this.”

“Tell that to Yugyeom,” Jinyoung mumbles but steps away and trails after Jaebeom slowly with one last glare over his shoulder that Yugyeom returns. He hops up on the counter and watches Jaebeom dig around in the fridge. “Jaebeom.” He doesn’t receive an answer. “ _Jaebeom_ , I’m hungry.”

Jaebeom takes a steadying breathe before he says sharply, “What am I supposed to do about that.” Yugyeom snickers as he makes his way to the cabinets to find a snack but Jinyoung ignores him, starting to inch a water bottle on the counter closer to edge while Jaebeom eyes it warily. “Jinyoung, please.” The water bottle topples off edge and clatters noisily against the ground. Jaebeom sighs when he bends down to pick it up, gives Jinyoung a warning look but doesn’t say anything, settling it firmly back on the counter but out of reach. “I’ll order something for lunch.”

Jinyoung hops down from the counter, a smug curl to his lips. Yugyeom watches with narrowed eyes as Jinyoung takes off his socks and flings them on the counter where he had just been sitting before he settles into one of the stools instead. Yugyeom, with distaste leeching out of his voice says, “Jaebeom, I thought we agreed you’d clean up after your animals.” Jaebeom lunges for Jinyoung’s arm before he can get up.

“Let me go, Jaebeom, I’m not gonna fight him, I just want to talk to him! I’m just gonna talk to him.” Jaebeom gives a warning look to Yugyeom this time who sighs, rolls his eyes, a smile threatening to break his façade.

“I’m sorry. I take it back.” Yugyeom says plainly. Jaebeom moves to wrap his arms fully around Jinyoung, now, as Jinyoung struggles more and says sweetly, “I won’t leave a hair out of place, Jaebeom, just give me 5 minutes.”

“Okay, _fine_ ,” Yugyeom grouses before digging around further back in the cabinet to pull out a can of tuna. Yugyeom slides the can so it rests in front of Jinyoung. “So are we friends, now?” Jaebeom’s grateful he’s behind Jinyoung so he can’t see his face, but he’s so close to laughing and oh no, he can’t laugh he _can’t_ oh god if he laughs—

“In my experience…you have to open the can first, Yugyeom.” Yugyeom runs away cackling when Jinyoung starts thrashing around in Jaebeom’s hold.

“Good to know you learned how to suck your own dick, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung hisses when he breaks free, stomping off to his own room.

“Should Yugyeom have tried milk, instead?” Jaebeom calls after him and he hears a door slam in response.

 

* * *

 

“Play with me I’m _bored,_ ” Jinyoung whines from where he’s draped over the small loveseat behind Jaebeom.

“How is that my fault?”

Jinyoung sighs loudly but sits sill for maybe…five minutes. Jaebeom doesn’t deserve it, but Jinyoung is such a loving and caring boyfriend; of course he sometimes he goes to bothe—visit Jaebeom in the studio when he locks himself up in there. And this is the welcome he receives for his dedication to Jaebeom’s wellbeing? How heartbreaking. Jinyoung watches Jaebeom hum to himself and nod his head to the melody, singing something under his breath before he rewinds and sings something to himself again before scribbling lyrics down hastily. In all honesty, Jinyoung loves watching Jaebeom work, loves his passion and dedication to his craft, his soft melodious tone swirling half formed lines into something full and beautiful. But.

Jinyoung’s not here to watch him work, and Jaebeom’s been working long enough.

Jinyoung gets up and stands close to Jaebeom, peering over his shoulder but not saying anything. After a moment he tucks in close to his side and puts his head on his shoulder. Jaebeom doesn’t react, still engrossed in his music. Jinyoung blows hotly in his ear and this time Jaebeom reacts and jerks away.

“Jinyoung. I’m busy.”

Jinyoung frowns. “I know. Am I not allowed to breathe now?” Jaebeom breathes heavily through his nose and turns back to his laptop. Jinyoung sits down on the floor next to him with his knees propped up, leaning back on his hands and letting his head flop back to rest on Jaebeom’s thigh, blinking up at him innocently when Jaebeom turns his gaze to him in a glare.

“I’m _busy._ ”

“Ugh. _Fine_.” He stands up and picks up one of Jaebeom’s notebooks—the one he’s _not_ writing in—and Jaebeom snatches it back.

“Jinyoung, no.” Jaebeom says firmly. Lips pressed into a thin line, Jinyoung starts wandering around the small room. He heads over to a small nightstand in the corner and starts picking up and looking at what’s on top. “Jinyoung, put that down.” Jinyoung looks over to meet Jaebeom’s stern stare. He rolls his eyes but drops it back on the table. Jinyoung can tell with the way Jaebeom’s hand twitches he’s dying to get up and put it back how he had it, but he tenses his jaw instead and turns back around. After moseying back on over to where Jaebeom is sitting, Jinyoung picks up a lose pen. He starts clicking it back and forth until Jaebeom snatches this out of his hands too. “Jinyoung, **stop**.” Jaebeom slightly raises his voice before he slams it back down on the desk. He plugs in his headphones and pointedly looks at his laptop again.

Jinyoung stares at the top of Jaebeom’s head for a few seconds before shrugging and making to sit in his lap. Jaebeom’s hands fly to his hips in a firm grip before he’s even close to taking a seat, pushing him towards the small loveseat pushed against the wall.

“ _Stay put before I put you out._ ”

Jinyoung huffs but sits down anyway, not entirely sure that he wouldn’t do it. Well fine then. If that’s how Jaebeom wanted to be, then Jinyoung wasn’t going to play nicely either. He reaches into his bag he had dropped on the floor when he first got there and starts digging around.

“Jaebeom.”

No response.

“Jae _beom_.” Jinyoung tries a little louder but he’s still left staring at his back. Jinyoung reaches back into his bag and pulls out his own notebook, methodically tearing out a blank page with a crisp, neat edge…before crushing it tightly in his fist and power chucking it at the back of Jaebeom’s head. Jaebeom rips his headphones off and spins around in his chair.

“Jinyoung, I swear _—_!” Jaebeom chokes on his words when he sees Jinyoung with his feet tucked under him, head leaned back against the cushions, and black ears perched cutely on top of his head. “God damn it.”

He looks back to his laptop before looking back to Jinyoung. Sighing, he hits save before getting up and going to the couch where Jinyoung is already reaching out for him, prize winning grin beaming prettily.

“C’mon, it’s just a few minutes; just take a small break, Jaebeom, you shouldn’t overwork yourself.” Jinyoung coos at him in exaggerated concern. He grabs at Jaebeom’s arms and pulls them around his waist as Jaebeom’s knees sink into the cushion when he kneels next to him on the couch.

Jaebeom pushes his face into Jinyoung’s neck right above where the dark fabric of his long sleeved sweatshirt rests against his skin. “I’m not,” Jaebeom mumbles against his throat before pressing a gentle kiss there. Jinyoung’s hand comes to the back of Jaebeom’s neck and gently pulls him away, fingers running up to play with the hair at his nape when they’re just far enough apart to look at each other.

“You are. You always do.” Jaebeom feels a worm of guilt tunnels its way through his chest at Jinyoung’s softly worried expression, starkly different in how authentic he sounds compared to a minute ago. He knows he’s genuinely worried even if he makes a show of it, trying to take off an edge of seriousness. “But that’s okay; we’re supposed to find each other when we get lost in ourselves, right? Today’s just my turn.” That guilt burrows all the way to the base of his throat, blocking and consuming any words of reassurance he can think of. He wants to tell him that it’s okay, he can barely sleep anyway so why not be productive, what he’s doing is important and it’s _okay_ because if he works hard now, sacrifices a bit of sleep and leisure _now,_ it’ll be good later, for all of them, and that’s the most important part, that is what he’s supposed to do as leader. All words he knows Jinyoung has heard before and will undoubtedly hear again. But he can’t this time, not with Jinyoung so close he can feel the way he aches as well as he can see it, the muted, smothered sadness that will only push closer to the surface, a bruise blooming over time. He can’t so he changes the topic, hoping Jinyoung can feel his appreciation and apology in the kiss he gives instead.

He reaches up to run the soft velvet ears between his forefinger and thumb. “This isn’t fair.” Jinyoung’s smile is back, full and beautiful and soft.

“When have you ever known me to play fair,” Jinyoung replies breezily before pulling Jaebeom in closer. And this is something they both get lost in without fail, holding each other close, lips plaint against one another’s, all their responsibilities and obligations dropping away. Maybe it really is time to go home, Jaebeom thinks hazily, even if only to just curl around Jinyoung and get his first full night of sleep in weeks, to wake up next to him in the morning, to sleep in and cuddle and talk idly with someone he loves with his entire being—

A knock on the door rockets him out of his reverie and he launches himself to the other side of the couch, pushing as far away from Jinyoung as he can get.

“H-Hello?” The door opens and a producer friend of Jaebeom’s glances in, awkwardly glancing between the two of them sitting on opposite ends of the couch and the floor in front of him.

“I’m heading out. Do you still need help with that track from earlier?” Jaebeom wants to bash his head against the floor. He completely forgot he had asked him to stop by when he had a chance. Shit.

“Uh, nope. No, I am good. Thanks for checking in, man.”

“No problem. You two have a nice night.” He basically slams the door on way out. The two of them sag in relief before Jinyoung pipes up.

“Okay. Were we that obvious?” Jaebeom looks back to Jinyoung and freezes.

“Um. Jinyoung.”

“What?”

“You—” points at his head and Jinyoung slowly reaches up, eyes widening when his fingers brush against velvety fabric.

He pushes his face in his hands and groans, “Fucking hell.” The tips of his ears are bright red and despite it all Jaebeom can’t help but melt at how cute he is.

“So…are we going to pick this back up or…?”

Jinyoung’s hands drop and he shoots to his feet. “ _I’m going home._ ” He rips the ears off his head and stuffs them in his bag. Their group was one thing, there really wasn’t anything he could do about them knowing, but _this_? Jinyoung could not handle the reality of Jaebeom’s friend’s knowing and talking about his—his— _feline proclivities._

“Wait! Let’s at least go home together! Just let me pack up.” Jinyoung relents but stands next to the door with his arms crossed.

“You should have told me someone was coming,” Jinyoung says testily, face still hot from being caught.

“I forgot! You were distracting me!” Jaebeom shoots back as he throws stuff into his bag.

There’s a moment where Jinyoung is oddly quiet, but Jaebeom’s too busy trying to gather up his things in record time to notice. Icily, Jinyoung replies quietly, “Are you saying this is my fault?”

Jaebeom suddenly realizes his mistake but it’s too late, now. “Jinyoung! No t-that’s not what I’m saying!” He doesn’t get to finish because Jinyoung has torn out of the room, Jaebeom hastily scrambling all of his stuff together to follow after him.

 

* * *

 

Jaebeom thinks Jinyoung will get over this quickly. But just like with how long he thinks he has before the cat litter runs out, or how long before Jackson will let go of his hand once he lets him have it, or how long he has to shit in the morning before their manager shows up to whisk them away to a schedule, Jaebeom is wrong. Jinyoung does _not_ get over it quickly. In fact, he’s mad about it, for a very, _very_ long time.

Go figure.

It doesn’t really hit him how upset Jinyoung is until he asks Jinyoung for some water after a practice, and Jinyoung, holding a full bottle of it, looks him dead in the eye and says, “It’s all gone,” before dumping it over his own head instead. This is two-fold petty because for one, Jaebeom could have _drank_ that and two, Jinyoung knows how sexy he looks wet and with his hair pushed back and that’s not _fair._

There’s a difference between Jinyoung being fake-cold to him, and actually being mad. And while he doesn’t _like_ Jinyoung ignoring him for real, there’s a rush of…satisfaction he gets, when he finally gives in and gives him the attention he wants, even if it’s biting. So he can’t help but push his luck over and over again hoping he’ll get something, _anything._

This time he catches Jinyoung alone, pointedly reading in the living room where he knows Jaebeom will see him, and Jinyoung will purposefully ignore him if he tries to engage, but he has to try, at least.

He sits on one of the chairs, not brave enough to sit next to Jinyoung on the couch, trying to find something he can spark a conversation with. He sees the box of individually wrapped snacks Jackson had bought as a “Please Calm Down” gift next to him. “Hey, Jinyoung, could you pass me one of those? I haven’t eaten all—” he stops when he sees Jinyoung’s hand move to the box and his heart soars. Maybe the cold front is over, maybe his penance is finally being accepted, maybe—

And then Jinyoung chucks the whole thing across the room.

“Go fetch.”

The thrill of… _something_ that runs through him at Jinyoung’s harsh tone and command is enough by itself to knock him off guard, but now’s not the time to analyze that. He wobbles to his feet, eyes trained on Jinyoung as he walks over to where the box landed. Jinyoung doesn’t move, doesn’t acknowledge him in the slightest. He turns a page. Jaebeom turns his attention to the box, reaching down to pick it up when Jinyoung’s authoritative voice rings out freezing him in his tracks. “I don’t want your hands touching anything of mine.” His head jerks up to look at him but Jinyoung is still staring resolutely at the book in his hands. Looking back at the box, Jaebeom’s not sure which of the options he has available to him is going to anger Jinyoung more, when he hears, “So you thought it was appropriate to bother me to ask for one, but you’re not going to eat it?”

Jaebeom might not always know when he’s being set up to fail by Jinyoung, but it doesn’t take a lot of his deduction skills to see that he’s in quite the pickle on this one. He sinks to his knees, well aware of Jinyoung’s judgmental stare boring into him, and carries through with the only loophole he thinks might get him the least amount of fury.

Jaebeom bends over and picks one up with his mouth.

Jinyoung makes a small surprised grunt in the back of his throat and Jaebeom whips his head up to meet Jinyoung’s gaze with wide, guilty eyes, assuming he probably still failed, but Jinyoung’s eyes are equally as wide but with shock, hands gripping his book so tightly Jaebeom’s sure he’s wrinkling the pages.

The moment stretches on between them, neither of them able to set time back in motion, until Jinyoung seems to remember himself and his expression glasses over, pristinely blank. He gets up without another word, leaving Jaebeom alone in the living room.

There’s a shift in Jinyoung’s mood after that.

A different kind of silence bounces between them, now. No longer icy, cold, and seething but Jaebeom can tell Jinyoung’s been thinking, been giving him a _look_ , inquisitive, like he’s trying to piece something together.

It makes him more nervous than Jinyoung being pissed off.

He’s not sure when the culmination of Jinyoung’s internal deliberation is going to make itself known to him. But, boy, is he worried.

One day he gets a text: _Come to my room._ That’s it. No other instructions. When he enters Jinyoung’s room he seems him sitting on his bed, no ears on, but the collars are laid out. Jinyoung’s already putting one around his own neck which is unusual by itself, but Jaebeom has a feeling he’s not in a position to be questioning him.

“Come here.” Jinyoung pats the bed next to him and Jaebeom doesn’t hesitate to follow his instruction. The scenario reaches a whole new level of weird when Jinyoung picks one of the collars up and asks to put one on Jaebeom. He nods, surprised but agrees readily. When Jinyoung’s done, Jaebeom reaches up to trace his fingers over it lightly. It’s a bit tight. “Can we try something new?” Jinyoung asks, voice quiet and innocuous, fingers coming up to join Jaebeom’s hand to brush along the collar. Jaebeom nods again and Jinyoung reaches underneath his pillow and pulls out leash.

When the fuck did Jaebeom enter an alternate dimension.

“I thought you said you didn’t want that,” Jaebeom says, voice faltering as he stares at the simple band of black leather.

And it’s in this moment that the familiar mischievous glimmer animates in Jiynoung’s eyes, his innocent mask sliding away like silk along skin. “I didn’t get this for me to wear, Jaebeom. It’s for you.” Jinyoung says impishly. He slowly reaches up to hook the open clasp into one of the loops on the collar, pausing right before he does so, giving Jaebeom a long searching look and an opportunity to move away. Jaebeom stays still. Jinyoung hooks it through and lets the clasps close, the click of the metal startlingly loud in Jaebeom’s ear. He swallows thickly when Jinyoung gives it two quick tugs to make sure it’s secure. A sly smile slowly stretches along Jinyoung’s face as he says, “You were right, Jaebeom, it is cute.”

“I thought you said no new sex toys?” Jaebeom tries weakly.

“But, Jaebeom,” Jinyoung says innocently, eyes wide and lips subtly pouting and Jaebeom knows it’s all over for him. “I bought this in a pet shop.”

Jinyoung’s smile is much, _much_ too sweet as he stands up, tugging Jaebeom to follow him out of his room and all the way to the kitchen. “Sit.” Jinyoung directs sternly. They’re not near any chairs, so Jaebeom slowly sinks down to the floor. Jinyoung frowns, his lip twitching up in vague disgust. “Don’t slouch.” Jinoyung snaps. He crouches down and softly pushes at Jaebeom’s shoulder until his straight and pressed evenly along the wood of the cabinets. The contrast in the delicate timber of his voice as he murmurs, “I feel like I care more about your back than you do,” before he stands up, has Jaebeom feeling fuzzy and off balance. He’s still recovering as Jinyoung takes a few steps over to reach into one of the upper cabinets to pull out a bowl, gingerly setting it on the floor before kicking it towards Jaebeom. “Would you drink out of it if I asked you too, Jaebeom? On your hands and knees?”

“Th— _Jinyoung._ ”

“You would if it was strawberry milk wouldn’t you?” Jinyoung’s face lights up. “Ah…didn’t you get sent some recently?”

When he goes to the fridge and starts to look for it, Jaebeom starts to scramble off of the floor. “Jinyoung, please—”

“Didn’t I tell you to sit?” Jinyoung slams the fridge closed and quickly closes the distance between them with a few strong strides. He wraps the leash around hand to shorten it, the collar around Jaebeom’s neck pulling tight. “Aren’t you going to be a good boy?” Jaebeom feels like his body is flowing with gasoline, and Jinyoung just dropped a match on his tongue. He nods quickly, sliding down to first to his knees, then to a sitting position with his legs folded under him, Jinyoung only letting the leash loose just enough so he doesn’t choke, smiling when he’s back on the floor. “I can see why you’re so into this now, Jaebeom, it’s pretty fun,” Jinyoung says sweetly. He shortens the lead again, and Jaebeom has to tilt his head up, neck straining. “You always like to call yourself a wolf, why don’t we see how long it takes for you howl, hyung.” Normally Jaebeom would roll his eyes at something like that, but the collar iss already so tight—Jinyoung dealt with this every time?—and the leash is only pulling it tighter and he wanted Jinyoung to pull him even closer still, yank until he starts seeing stars.

Neither of them hear the front door open, but they do hear Yugyeom’s startled gasp. Jinyoung drops the leash and panic floods in right along with the air that rushes down Jaebeom’s windpipe.

“Yugyeom…” Jinyoung starts hesitantly.

“Don’t.” Yugyeom’s voice warbles, backing up when Jinyoung reaches for him and takes a step forward. “ _Don’t_.” Jinyoung stops, letting his hand drop. “I just want to come home one _fucking_ day—”

“Yugyeom…Yugyeom, we were just—playing a game! Right, Jaebeom?” Jinyoung looks down at Jaebeom who only opens and closes and mouth uselessly. “It’s just a game so—Yugyeom, please—”

“No! No I’m not a kid anymore, Jinyoung! You can’t _lie_ to me, I _know_ what you were doing,” Yugyeom sniffs, voice starting to crack.

“Yugyeom—”

“In the _kitchen_?” Yugyeom whispers harshly, tears filling up his eyes. “Is nothing sacred to you? You—you _defiled_ our _kitchen_ —?”

Jinyoung makes a pained noise and reaches for him again. “Don’t cry, Gyeomie, it’s not—we’re sorry, we won’t—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Yugyeom chokes as he backs up from Jinyoung’s outstretched hand. “I-I’m going to my room!” And he turns on his heels and runs away. When his door slams the two of them wince in unison.

Jinyoung looks over at the lit up display on the microwave, groaning at the task ahead of him. “I’m not going to sleep at a reasonable time am I?” he sighs to himself before beckoning to Jaebeom. “Come on, get up, we have a giant to appease.”

“Can we agree this one is on you?” Jaebeom asks tiredly, struggling to undo the leash and collar around his neck. Jinyoung gently brushes his hands away and undoes it for him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll foot the bill on this one.”

 

* * *

 

“Yugyeom got over it, we just bought him a bunch of food and a couple of PlayStation games,” Jinyoung explains from where he’s lounging on the couch in the waiting room with BamBam, the two of them being the firsts to have their hair and makeup complete.

BamBam starts snickering. “He’s such a kid,” he teases form his chair across from him.

“Says you,” Jinyoung shoots back.

“I’m not a child, because I don’t care about your weird fetish shit as long as you’re too distracted with that and I don’t have to see you two wear the couple Crocs,” BamBam explains.

“Oh, we wear them, they’re just too precious to get dirty,” Jinyoung taunts. BamBam’s face screws up and Jinyoung sets his book down long enough to lean in whisper, “We wear the Crocs in bed.”

“Fucking kill me.”

Mark walks in at that moment, finished with his hair and makeup. “What’s up with you?”

“HE’S TALKING ABOUT WEARING THE CROCS _AT NIGHT!”_ BamBam yells accusingly, pointing at an unaffected Jinyoung.

Mark shrugs, making his way over to one of the seats. “Yeah, I see them wear them around the dorm all the time.”

Jinyoung nods and adds, “ _Great_ house shoes.”

“ _Why_?” BamBam cries, lamenting on how he managed to get stuck with not one, but _two_ of the oldest young people he’s ever had the displeasure of meeting in his entire life. And they had to wear fucking Crocs? Holy shit, Jinyoung was implying they were _literally_ Fucking Crocs he’s really going to die.

“They’re comfortable. You know about Jaebeom’s back,” Jinyoung says casually while flipping through book. “And they’re good for your feet too. There’s a reason I’m the only one in the group with more than 45 fan pages solely dedicated to their feet.”

The room goes dead silent. Mark leans down puts his faces in his arms. Yugyeom walks in next, frowning concernedly at Mark when he sees him.

“What’s up with him?” BamBam refuses to answer, staring blankly at the wall in front of him. Jinyoung continues reading his book. Yugyeom shakes Mark’s shoulder gently softly calling out, “Hey Mark? You okay?”

Mark lifts his head up just enough to whisper, “…‘ _Solely_ dedicated’…to _feet_.” Jinyoung looks up. Blinking as the realization sets in.

“Oh. I didn’t even realize I made a pun,” Jinyoung giggles to himself as he looks back down at his book. “That’s funny.”

Mark collapses laughing, Yugyeom’s hand sliding off of his shoulder as he crumples to the floor, and BamBam gets up disgusted. He latches onto Yugyeom’s wrist and drags him out with him.

“Wait, what’s—where are we going?” Yugyeom asks, still looking in concern at Mark’s hapless form on the ground.

“To find a new family.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey if u made it thru this mess thank you and again: my bad! If u wanna yell at me im on [twitter](https://twitter.com/lvndrhoney) now! Im finally figuring out how to use it (that’s a lie I really really don’t) so like hmu or whatever anyways thanks for putting up with me and ilu all


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